


Home Again

by jarbaje



Series: fluff stuff [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Old Arthur, Old Kieran, also horses are the best, plz let everyone grow old, ranch au, they get to grow old and raise horses together ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 14:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarbaje/pseuds/jarbaje
Summary: Arthur and Kieran manage to escape the gang. Years later, they still find ways to appreciate each other.the "fluff stuff" series are unrelated one shots that do not need to be read in order





	Home Again

Chickens scratched to be freed from their coop. The rooster, ever vigilant, crowed at the rising sun. The crow caught in his throat, fizzled out halfway through. He was getting old, but neither of them had the heart to butcher the bird—he’d been their first chick, before they knew how to tell hens apart from roos. They’d never gotten around to naming him.

Arthur rolled over in the bed, feeling the empty space beside him. Figures. Barely dawn and Kieran was already at the barn. Had probably been there all night, snuck out once Arthur was asleep, impossible to wake up as he was now. Fifty-seven wasn’t that old, really, but he hadn’t been the same since that wild stallion bucked him last year. Kieran wanted to sell the thing off. Arthur insisted on keeping it out of spite, and now the mustang was one of their best studs.

Probably where Kieran had gone to. Gwendoline was due any day now. The foal was already spoken for, the highly anticipated mix of wild mustang and the granddaughter of a racing champion. If she did well, they could expect a long, prosperous line. Kieran had looked faint with excitement when it was confirmed Gwen was pregnant.

Arthur used the fondness of that memory to help get himself out of bed. His back ached and the world wobbled a bit around the edges, but he felt he could manage. He dressed quickly, as quickly as he could. Never bothered with his beard or his hair unless Kieran said something. Tied a scarf around his neck—always seemed chilled, starting around this time of year. Kieran liked to tease him about it.

Made his way into the hall. Paused to throw a forlorn look at the two closed doors. Wondered when their daughters would visit again, it had been a while since the last letter where Arthur promised to teach the grandkids how to ride. Kieran hadn’t mentioned it in the letter, but he had horses set aside for all of them.

Arthur pushed the memories aside and made his careful way down the stairs. The cold kitchen reminded him of Kieran’s suggestion they hire someone to cook for them and tidy the house. Arthur grumbled as he fixed himself a quick breakfast of dried meat and canned apricots. Another thing Kieran teased him about.  _ All this time living comfortable and you still forget you don’t have to eat out of a can everyday _ . 

At least Arthur could bake bread. The  _ one _ thing he could ghoulishly hold over Kieran’s head until the day they died, because Kieran  _ loved _ his fresh bread. Was willing to do just about anything.

Arthur chased the last of his meal with a hearty glass of water. 

  
  
  


One of the ranchands had turned the other horses out to pasture by the time Arthur hauled himself out of the house. That confirmed it: Kieran didn’t like other horses in the barn while a mother labored.

The light in the barn was dim. Arthur took great comfort in the smells, the sounds, the warmth of a horse barn, even before he got to have all of  _ this _ with the love of his life. 

Kieran was in the large birthing stall at the far end of the barn. It opened into a private coral where mother and foal would spend a month together before being introduced to the rest of the herd.

A deep well of affection threatened to close Arthur’s throat as he watched Kieran soothe Gwendoline. They had staff, but Kieran insisted on birthing every foal himself. Even when Arthur just wanted him to come to bed, sit down and  _ rest _ . Arthur could break horses like no other but Kieran understood them in a way no one else did, a way Arthur was almost jealous of despite the many years he’d been privy to it.

Arthur hooked his arms over the top of the low door.

“What time you come out here?”

Kieran shrugged. “Early. Didn’t want to wake you. She did real well.”

“They always do, with you.”

Kieran threw him a smile over his shoulder, nodded at the foal stood on rickety legs near Gwendoline’s flank. Hard to tell how they’d look, when they were this fresh, but it seemed to have the long legs of its thoroughbred mother. 

Kieran gave Gwen a final pat before coming over to Arthur and offering him a brief kiss over the stall door.

“Well come meet our newest filly.”

Arthur pulled Kieran back against his chest, arms snaked around his hips. Kieran sighed and leaned back into the embrace. Arthur tucked his chin into the crook of Kieran’s neck. The two of them watched Gwendoline groom and nurse her foal. Arthur could feel the tense knots along Kieran’s back.

“You’re getting too old to be hunched over horses all night,” he teased with a nip to Kieran’s ear.

“And you’re too old to be breaking yearlings.”

Arthur spun Kieran around, walked him backwards out of the stall until his legs hit a pile of hay. Arthur straddled his lap, ignoring the twinge from his bad hip.

“And  _ you’re _ —”

Kieran silenced him with a kiss. Arthur didn’t mind the chapped lips or the unique smell that came with spending the night in a barn. He worked at the knots along Kieran’s shoulders as Kieran worked his way down Arthur’s chest, and he probably would’ve gone farther if someone hadn’t cleared their throat from the front of the barn.

“Excuse me, sirs. Just need some bales.”

Kieran hid his face in Arthur’s chest. A deep laugh rumbled from Arthur as he swung off Kieran and helped him to stand. “Please, don’t let us interrupt your work.”

  
  



End file.
